Monowi: Nebraska's Town of One Where the Mayor Taxes Herself

In the vast plains of Boyd County, Nebraska, sits what may be America's most unusual municipality: Monowi, a fully incorporated town with exactly one resident. And yes, she does pay taxes to herself.

Elsie Eiler became Monowi's sole resident in 2004 when her husband Rudy passed away. Rather than abandon the town where she'd lived for decades, she stayed—making her the mayor, clerk, treasurer, librarian, and bartender all rolled into one.

How Does a One-Person Town Even Work?

Every year, Elsie follows the same civic ritual that would be absurd anywhere else: she sits on one side of her dining table and votes to re-elect herself as mayor. Then she moves to the other side of the table and accepts the results.

The tax situation is equally peculiar. As a resident, Elsie pays taxes to the village. As mayor, she receives those taxes. The money goes toward maintaining Monowi's four street lights, keeping the roads graded, and paying for the liquor license she grants herself to operate the Monowi Tavern.

A Town That Refuses to Die

Monowi wasn't always this empty. In the 1930s, the town peaked at 150 residents. But like many rural Great Plains communities, it steadily hemorrhaged population as young people left for cities and farming became less labor-intensive.

What makes Monowi unique isn't the decline—it's that Elsie chose to keep it incorporated. Most places in her situation would simply dissolve and become unincorporated areas. But staying incorporated means:

• Monowi remains on official maps and census data
• The town can collect taxes for basic infrastructure
• Elsie can legally operate her tavern with a municipal liquor license
• The community maintains its identity and history

The Tavern at the End of Everything

The Monowi Tavern serves as the town's beating heart. Elsie still fires up the grill to serve burgers and beers to the curious tourists, neighboring ranchers, and occasional journalists who make the pilgrimage to America's smallest town.

She's not lonely, she insists. Visitors come from around the world. And besides, she's busy—running a bar, maintaining a 5,000-book library dedicated to her late husband's memory, and handling all the paperwork required to keep a one-person municipality legally functional.

The Bureaucratic Absurdities

The federal government still sends census forms. The state still requires annual incorporation paperwork. Elsie still has to file reports, hold elections (with herself), and maintain records—all the machinery of municipal government, grinding away for an audience of one.

When she needs to grant herself a liquor license renewal, she submits the application as a resident, reviews it as the liquor board, and approves it as mayor. It's performance art masquerading as civics.

What Happens Next?

Elsie was born in 1936, making her well into her eighties. She's acknowledged that when she's gone, Monowi will likely disappear from the maps entirely. There's no succession plan because there's no successor.

But for now, the town endures—a testament to stubbornness, independence, and the very American idea that if you want to keep your town alive, even as a population of one, that's your right.

And yes, she still dutifully pays her taxes. To herself. Because that's what you do in Monowi.